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psalmofmyself-deactivated201612

You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

Franz Kafka (via psalmofmyself)

franzkavkas

All three volumes of Stach’s biography came in the mail!

I’ve got the full collection now and I’m in love.

saintparasite-deactivated201703

Dr. Franz Kafka, a German writer who lived in Prague, died the day before yesterday in the Kierling Sanatorium, near Klosterneuburg bei Wien. Few people knew him here, for he was a recluse, a wise man in dread of life. He had been suffering a lung disease for years, and although he worked to cure it, he also consciously nourished it, and fostered it in his thoughts. He once wrote in a letter: when heart and soul can’t bear it any longer, the lung takes on half the burden, so that it is distributed a little more evenly-and that’s the way it was with his disease. It lent him an almost miraculous tenderness and an almost horribly uncompromising intellectual refinement.

Physically, however, Franz Kafka loaded his entire intellectual fear of life onto the shoulders of his disease. He was shy, anxious, meek, and kind, yet the books he wrote are gruesome and painful. He saw the world as full of invisible demons, tearing apart and destroying defenseless humans. He was too clairvoyant, too intelligent to be capable of living, and too weak to fight. He was weak the way noble, beautiful people are, people incapable of struggling against their fear of misunderstanding, malice, or intellectual deceit because they recognize their own helplessness in advance; their submission only shames the victor. He understood people as only someone of great and nervous sensitivity can, someone who is alone, someone who can recognize others in a flash, almost like a prophet. His knowledge of the world was extraordinary and deep; he was himself an extraordinary and deep world.

lohrien

quotemadness

I do not speak as I think, I do not think as I should, and so it all goes on in helpless darkness.

Franz Kafka (via quotemadness)

youthofphilosophers82-blog

“Dearest Father,” it began, “you once asked me why I maintain that I am afraid of you. As usual, I did not know how to answer you, partly because of this very fear I have of you, and partly because the explanation of this fear involves so many details that, when I am talking, I can’t keep half of them together.”

vespertinerecursion-blog

pricebullington

Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.

- Franz Kafka

seninderdindeyim

Ve bir kez olsun bana kendimden kurtulup derin bir nefes alma zevkini tattır.

Franz Kafka

(via yazmadanedemedim)

55kumamons-deactivated20180325

Find someone who will look at you the way Jongup looks at Youngjae

dearlightsaber

Tanımıyorum ama çok güzel bakıyor ya izle izlr doyamadım djdnks

#fave #ever #wow

#ever #phhhoto #wow #fave

sweetserialkiller

I did not fall heavily, nor did I feel any pain, but I felt so weak and unhappy that I buried my face in the ground: I could not bear the strain of seeing around me the things of the earth. I felt convinced that every movement and every thought was forced, and that one had to be one’s guard against them. Yet nothing seemed more natural than to lie here on the grass, my arms beside my body, my face hidden.

Franz Kafka (via lostdior)